


Blueberry Waffles

by KoolestKat



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Cutting, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Panic Attacks, Scars, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, i love them all so much, panic disorder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2020-07-11 16:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19931380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoolestKat/pseuds/KoolestKat
Summary: Virgil has been struggling for a long time, but no one knows. After a botched audition, Virgil turns to one of his worst coping mechanisms and the others find out.





	1. Helpless

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING!!  
> This fic is very triggery! Please be careful. This chapter includes:  
> \- Graphic depictions of an anxiety attack  
> \- Graphic depictions of self-harm  
> \- Graphic Depictions of waffles  
> Stay Safe Kool Katz!  
> (Also italics are Virgil's thoughts)

At this point, Virgil felt that “tired” wasn’t a feeling, but a personality trait. He stared at the lightly textured grey ceiling he noticed the light that was slowly filtering through his curtains. He hadn’t slept at all that night. Typically, he could get a few hours of decent sleep in, but last night he had been anxious (duh) about today's events. Because today, Thomas was auditioning for the lead role in a local musical. And although this wasn’t  _ that _ big of a deal, Virgil was still (surprise surprise) anxious. 

He faintly heard a couple gentle taps against his door frame - Patton. 

“Hey kiddo? Are you awake? I made blueberry waffles for breakfast today? I thought you might want some ‘cause they’re usually your favorites!”

“Uh-Yeah. Yeah sure Pat. Uh...Let me get dressed first.” 

Virgil slowly sat up as he heard Patton’s light steps amble back down the hallway to the kitchen. He glanced at the oversized grey shirt he was wearing and stumbled onto his feet and to the closet. After looking through a couple options, he decided on his favorite black and purple patchwork hoodie, a purple shirt, some black skinny jeans, and his converse. As he pulled off his shirt, he tried not to look too long at his arms before he yanked on his signature hoodie. He made his way to his bathroom and applied his pale foundation and eyeshadow. He quickly brushed his hair forward and checked his appearance in the mirror before shuffling into the kitchen. 

As per usual, Logan and Patton were already in the kitchen, with Logan reading a book and sipping on some coffee and Patton, ever the mother hen, busy in the kitchen making blueberry waffles. Virgil immediately noticed that Roman wasn’t there, but he wasn’t complaining. Roman’s boisterous mood in the morning was sometimes too much for the anxious side. Besides, Roman was probably doing a last minute run though of Thomas’ lines. 

“Good morning Virgil! The waffles will be ready in about five minutes!” 

“Salutations Virgil. I hope you are well this morning.”

Virgil responded with a grumble and relaxed into his seat and listened to Pattons quiet humming. As he listened he recognized the song as “A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes” from Cinderella. After a couple of minutes, loud, energetic steps could be heard thundering down the steps. 

“Is that DISNEY I hear?!” Came Roman’s chestnut voice. 

“Good morning RoRo! We thought you might not be coming!” Patton giggled out. 

“How could I miss breakfast with my three favorite people? On today of all days?” Roman dances around the kitchen to take up Patton's hand and kiss it politely. To which Patton responded with a barely withheld giggle. This caused Logan to look up from his book and clear his throat. His narrowed eyes watching as Roman slid into his seat. 

Virgil slumped forward in his chair right before Patton set everyone’s plate in front of them. He looked down at the plate, taking in the perfectly made waffle decorated with plump blueberries and maple syrup. 

“Eat up everybody! We have a big day today!” Patton exclaimed. 

Virgil’s heart sank at the reminder of the audition. His mind calculating how long before it started and what if Thomas wears the wrong clothes or shows up late or forgets his lines or falls down while walking onto the stage-

“Oh I know! It’ll be fabulous! I’ve been practicing the lines and the singing so Thomas is sure to get the part!” Roman’s over enthusiastic voice knocked Virgil out of his thought spiral. 

After Roman gave a demonstration of the audition (he acted out the entire scene, including the singing) Logan filled us in on the book he had been reading recently on something...sciencey? Virgil wasn’t quite sure what Logan was talking about and judging from Roman and Patton’s faces, they didn’t quite understand either. 

Once it looked like Logan was gathering his explanation to a conclusion, Roman jumped into another long-winded description of his adventures fighting dragons in the imagination. Halfway through this description Virgil stood up and dumped his barely touched plate into the sink. His thoughts were spiraling again and “what ifs” were bouncing around in his head. 

“Hey Hot Topic! Where are you going? I was just getting to the best part!”

“I uh... was just gonna y'know...go to my room.” He needed to get out of there. There were too many noises and smells and people and it was just overwhelming poor Virgil. 

Before Roman could get another word in, Virgil scampered off to his room and slammed the door shut behind him. 

“Breathe.” He whispered to himself, tapping out the 4-7-8 breathing rhythm on his thigh with his index finger. 

After about fifteen minutes, Virgil was as close to relaxed as he would be getting anytime soon. 

He stood up, stretched his legs and checked the time: 9:30 am. Only thirty minutes until the audition. Virgil sat down in his desk chair and gathered his thoughts before checking in on Thomas. Thomas was a little extra nervous thanks to Virgil’s earlier freak-out, but overall Thomas was fine. 

Time flashed by and suddenly Thomas was about to go on stage.

Virgil’s heart thundered in his chest.  _ What’s wrong with me? Why am I getting so worked up? _

As Virgil got more and more worked up, he tried to keep the anxiety within himself and not let any get to Thomas, but as the anxiety built up in him he felt a little bit trickle into Thomas’ grand performance. But the show must go on, right? 

Virgil was still freaking out, but he didn’t go into panic mode until the residual anxiety that he accidentally let get to Thomas caused Thomas to stutter and forget one of the words. 

_ It’s all your fault. Thomas isn’t going to get the part because of you. You never help anyone. You’re just a worthless dark side. You don’t deserve the others. You don’t deserve Thomas. You should just leave. You should just die. _

Virgil fell off his desk chair onto the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees. 

_ Your fau l t _

_ Dark si de _

_ Die _

It as all Virgil could do to try and keep any of his anxiety attack from getting to Thomas. 

It felt like his lungs had been ripped out of his chest and breathing was impossible. He lifted a shaking hand to try to tap out his breathing pattern but he couldn’t quite grasp the numbers. So instead he dug his fingers into his arms, reopening his old scabs. He kept opening his mouth trying to get any air but to no avail. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he squeezed them shut. His brain kept screaming at him.

**_Useless_ **

**_Undeserving_ **

**_Worthless_ **

**_Unloved_ **

**_Dark_** **_side_**

**_Die_ **

For what felt like hours Virgil tried to calm himself down (unsuccessfully) while keeping his own anxiety far away from Thomas. 

Finally Virgil was able to gather his breathing and tap out 4-7-8 on his newly scabbed arms. After another couple minutes he was able to ease his eyes open and glance around his still dark room. He caught a glimpse of the time: 12:46 pm. He had been panicking for a little over two hours. 

Thomas. Virgil had to check on Thomas. 

_ It was his fault that Thomas probably hadn’t gotten the part and Roman would be angry at him for messing up all his hard work and Patton would be angry at him for making Thomas sad and Logan would be angry at him for ruining Thomas’ career and- _

Virgil stopped his train of thought before he could fall into another anxiety attack. He knew he still needed to check on Thomas but his skin was still buzzing with anxiety. He just needed to CALM DOWN. 

_ You know what would help. _

No

_ It’ll be easy. Then you could check on Thomas. _

I-I can’t. I said last time would be the last.

_ You say that every time. No one will know. It will help. _

Virgil let out a defeated sigh and dragged himself off the ground. He rubbed the corners of his eyes as he shuffled over to his bathroom cabinet. He reached to the back of his cabinet to a box that once housed his eyeshadow, but now was the home to something more sinister. 

As he pulled the blade from the box he noticed the slight tinge of red that echoed near the edge. He shrugged his hoodie onto the floor by his feet to reveal his purple t-shirt and the lines of scars on his arms. He used his left hand to shut and lock the door. Virgil sat down on the lid of the toilet and pressed the blade against the inside of his left forearm and pulled. He watched with wonder as the skin split apart. Blood slowly flooded the cut in careful droplets until the surface tension broke and a drop glided down his arm, making its way to the ground, only to be caught by a tissue. As the red was absorbed into the tissue Virgil took in a deep breath before resting the tissue on his leg and lifting the blade back to his arm. He pressed down and pulled the blade against his skin once more.

The process was mesmerizing and before Virgil knew it, his left arm was numb. By now he had moved to stand next to the sink, tissue abandoned on the toilet, letting the blood freely drip. There was more blood than usual, but it wasn’t enough. He hastily flexed his left hand before transferring the blade and beginning to slice into his right arm. The cuts were just as deep, albeit shakier, and the skin split at each cut. 

When Virgil emerged from his daze he took a glance at his artistry and was stunned at the rivulets of blood seemingly pouring down his arm. 

Well shit.

“Okay. Alright. This is fine. It’s been worse. Just gotta…” Virgil’s murmurings trailed off as he reached forward to turn on the sink.

He hissed as the tepid water ran over his arms, turning the water a hazy pink. He turned the water off and tried to pat his cuts dry with a couple more tissues, but his efforts proved fruitless as more blood swam into the cuts. Before too much more blood could leak over and dribble down his arms, Virgil hurriedly reached into the cabinet underneath the sink to find the bandages.

Suddenly, Virgil felt himself being summoned by Thomas. 

“No no no no no,” Virgil resisted as much as he could, eyes frantically darting to find his hoodie, but he was losing his grip on his room. 


	2. Something Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to Chapter 2!! Please be careful, this work is very triggery! If any of the following things might trigger you, find a wholesome fluff fic!  
> \- Graphic description of a panic attack  
> \- Graphic description of self harm injuries  
> \- Graphic description of a fuzzy plushie  
> Stay safe Kings, Queens, and In-Betweens!

Patton, Roman, and Logan were all in Thomas’ living room. Roman was, to say the least, absolutely psyched. Thomas had just gotten a call from the director of the musical inviting him to callbacks the following week. 

“YAAAS QWEEN!!!”

“I’m so proud of you Kiddo!!”

“This is optimal.”

Roman took Thomas’ hand and twirled him, before Roman summoned the speakers up from his room and had them play “I’m Walking on Sunshine”. Patton erupted in a fit of giggles and engulfed Logan in a hug, to which Logan carefully hugged back, a grin plastering itself on his face. Despite his frequent statements that he had “no time for such a preposterous thing as feelings”, Logan did have feelings. And right now? Logan had a few too many feelings. 

As the hubbub settled down, they all found their places in the room and began discussing the callbacks, until:

“Hey! Why isn’t the emo nightmare here? Don’t you think he would want to hear the marvelous news?” Roman turned to Patton who made an “o” face.

“How did we not notice that Virgil wasn’t here?” Patton exclaimed.

Roman brushed down his shirt and squared his shoulders before he declared, “Never fear! I shall summon Virgil!” He waved his hand and … nothing happened.

“Huh.”

Everyone turned to Logan because he was the most knowledgeable about things like this. Logan Adjusted his tie before speaking, “Well, due to the fact that Thomas isn’t exhibiting any odd behaviours I think we can rule out Virgil ducking out again. The only other reason could be that Virgil is resisting being summoned.”

Patton looked absolutely heartbroken. His dark strange son didn’t want to see him?

Logan noticed this look and seemed to melt a little bit before adding on, “Virgil can still be summoned though. But only by Thomas, because as sides we can’t resist our hosts summoning us.”

At this, everyone turned to Thomas, who shrugged. 

“Uh, okay. But how do I summon Virgil?” he asked.

Logan answered with an even tone as always, “Simply think of Virgil and motion like this,” Logan raised his arm as Roman had done previously, “while imagining dragging Virgil up with your hand.”

Thomas made the motion and after a second of resistance, Virgil rose up. Without his hoodie. 

Roman’s mouth fell agape. This was the first time that any of them had seen Virgil without his hoodie or some long-sleeved garment, and now it was so painfully obvious why.

~~~~~~~~~~~

As Virgil rose up into Thomas’ living room, his mind was racing. 

_ The other sides are going to see my arms. They’ll know. All my years of hiding were all for nothing. _

As he was brought up into his corner by the stairs, he wrapped his arms around himself, but the others had already seen. 

_ No no no. I can’t do this. I have to leave. I have to go back to my room _ . 

Virgil took advantage of everyone’s various states of shock and speedily sunk back down to his room without saying a word.

When Virgil arrived back into his room he stumbled to the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He knew that the others would soon come to their senses and try to find him, so he could at least put on his hoodie so they wouldn’t have to look at him.

His arms were still bleeding as he pulled on his hoodie, but that wasn’t a concern for Virgil right now. He grimaced as the soft fabric rubbed on his cuts. Just then, his eyes caught sight of the still bloody blade resting innocently on his countertop.

_ They know. They’ll hate you. They know you’re weak. They don’t care about you. You’re just a burden on them. _

Virgil stifled a sob as his mind, yet again, descended into panic. His breathing stuttered as he really grasped that the others knew his biggest secret. The horrible secret he had tried to keep locked away from their wholesome minds.

There came a frantic and loud knocking on the bathroom door.

“Virgil? Kiddo? Can you please open the door for us?” Patton was the first to speak. 

_They don’t care about you. They wouldn’t care about some_ ** _useless_** **_dark_** **_side._**

Virgil curled himself into the small space between the toilet and the sink and tried not to make much noise. A beat passed. No one said anything.

From behind the door a distressed Roman could be heard whisper screaming.

“Hurry Logan! We don’t know what’s going on in there! He could be in danger!”

Virgil dug his nails into his arms, welcoming the stinging pain it brought.

The door swung open, revealing Logan holding a lock-pick with a teary Roman and a sobbing Patton behind him. They all immediately relaxed as they spotted Virgil, but tensed again when they noticed his evident panic.

Logan crouched down in front of the emo side. He tried to place a hand on Virgil’s shoulder but quickly retracted his hand when Virgil flinched away.

“Virgil. It’s Logan. I need you to breathe.” He said in a calming tone, remembering the breathing exercise that Virgil had once mentioned. Patton kneeled down next to Logan, but Roman still stood worriedly behind Logan. “Breathe in for 4 seconds, can you do that for me?”

After a couple of failed breathing attempts, Virgil finally took a strangled gasp in. 

“That’s great. You’re doing great. Now hold that breath for 7 seconds… and exhale for 8 seconds.” Virgil exhaled. “Perfect. And in for 4… Hold for 7… Out for 8…” Virgil was following along the best he could. He didn’t want to worry them any more than he already had. 

After a solid ten minutes of just focusing on breathing Virgil let out a choked up “I’m sorry.”

“There is no need to apologize for your emotions, Virgil.” Despite his calm tone, Logan looked crushed.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Virgil was now teary eyed himself. “You weren’t supposed to know. I’m so sorry”

“Don’t apologize kiddo. I’m sorry I didn’t notice how much you were struggling. We love you so much.” Patton made out through his sniffles.

Virgil instinctively flinched when he felt arms around him, but then relaxed into Patton’s embrace. A couple stray tears made their way down Virgil’s face and onto his hoodie sleeves that were cradled against his abdomen.

The sight of Virgil’s now covered arms served to remind Logan why they were here in the first place. 

“If it is alright with you, Virgil, do you think you could let me bandage your arms?” Logan asked cautiously, as if trying not to scare away a fawn.

After a second of hesitation, Virgil slowly extended his sleeved arms toward Logan as a silent invitation. Logan daintily took his left hand and carefully pulled up the sleeve, revealing rows upon rows of scars and fresh cuts alike. Roman and Logan both gasped. Virgil looked down, hiding his face with his bangs. Next to him, Patton hiccupped out a sob and buried his face into the back of Virgil’s shirt. 

“I’m sorry.” Came a murmur from beneath Virgil’s bangs. Causing Patton to just hug him tighter. 

Logan gently took a wet washcloth that he had Roman summon to clean the areas around the cuts as best he could before tenderly dabbing the cuts themselves with the washcloth to try and clean them too. This caused Virgil to let out a slight hiss of discomfort, so Patton gently rubbed his back. 

“Roman would you summon a first aid kit please?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Roman waved his hand and a red first aid kit appeared in his hands. He quietly passed it to Logan, who opened it and took out the gauze, bandages, and butterfly stitches.

Logan decided that, though it appeared a few of the cuts might have needed needle and thread stitches, butterfly stitches would have to do. After securing the wounds with the butterfly stitches, he softly placed gauze over the cuts on one arm before securing it all down with a bandage. He then repeated the process on the other arm, only stopping to wipe away his tears. After he was done he carefully pulled the patchwork sleeves back down to cover his arms. 

“Thanks.” Virgil mumbles in a scratchy voice. 

“It was nothing Virgil. Are you up for talking about what happened or do you just want to process and calm down?”

“Can I just take a nap?” After a sleepless night and two panic attacks in one day, he was exhausted. 

“Of course you can, V.” Patton released Virgil from his hug and stood up. He offered his right hand to help Virgil stand up. The anxious side debated taking Patton’s hand but eventually took it after a few seconds of delay. The entire group files out of the bathroom with Roman in the front and Patton and Virgil, still holding hands, bringing up the rear. 

Once Virgil had slid off his shoes, he climbed into bed and Patton covered him with blankets, even taking the liberty to summon a little purple ghost plushie for the exhausted emo to hold on to while he slept. After only a couple of minutes of being wrapped up in the fuzzy blankets his breathing evened out and he fell asleep. 

Logan turned off the lights and started to leave but Roman interjected. 

“Could I stay? With Virgil, I mean? I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

Patton shot him a sad look. 

“Of course you can Kiddo. Just tell us if you need anything.”

Logan left and Patton flashed a small smile as he closed the door. Roman pulled the plush desk chair over to the bed and sat down. He looked down at the now sleeping Virgil. 

He was sleeping on his side, curled around the ghost plushie. His eyelashes fluttered as he shifted in his sleep. He appeared so at peace.

Roman knew they’d have to talk about this tomorrow, and he didn’t know how well that would go, but for now he was happy to fall asleep watching over one of the three people he loved most. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! Any comments/kudos are appreciated! Please let me know if I missed any potential triggers that I should tag!


	3. All I Ask of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil wakes up. The others have questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!  
> This fic is very triggery! If any of the following might trigger you, please don't read!  
> \- Self-harm mentions  
> \- Panic attack mentions  
> \- Crofter's Jam mentions  
> Stay safe out there!

Virgil woke to a bright room.  _ What is going on? I never open my curtains. _

As Virgil sat up, yesterday’s events came back to him in an instant. His breathing stuttered looked around and noticed a few obvious changes:

1) The curtains were pulled back

2) There were bandages around his arms

3) He was clutching a ghost plushie

4) Roman was there.

Wait. What.

Roman was there. In his room. Writing in some sort of notebook and quietly singing “You’re Welcome” from Moana to himself.

“Princey?” Virgil’s voice was croaky, but he continued, “What are you doing here?”

This caused Roman to look up, smiling at the sight of Virgil awake.

“You have terrible bedhead, Brad Pittiful.”

“Gee, thanks. But you didn’t answer my question: What are you doing here?”

“What? I can’t visit a friend in the morning?”

Virgil shot him a look that would turn a grape into a raisin.

“Fine. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn’t want you to wake up alone and start worrying. I care about you, okay?”

Although he was taken aback by the honest answer, Virgil  _ was _ glad that Roman was here, otherwise he probably would’ve fallen into some Healthy Panic™ driven by the fact that “ _ No one cares about you. _ ” and “ _ They don’t even want to look at you. _ ”

“So do you wanna go get breakfast? Patton’s making eggs.”

“Uh...yeah. Sure. I’m just gonna…” Virgil inched forward off his bed and gathered his bearings before walking over to the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He did his business as usual and went to wash his hands, unbeknownst to the worrying that Roman was experiencing on the other side of the bathroom door. He wasn’t as worried as he would have been had he not searched Virgil’s bathroom for blades (he found three), but he was still worried. 

The door between them swung open and a nervous Virgil emerged, wiping his slightly shaking hands on his skinny jeans. 

“Ready to go?”

Virgil nodded and walked over to where Roman was. Together they left towards the kitchen where Logan and Patton were talking in the kitchen in hushed voices. Roman made his typically grand entrance, grabbing the attention of the moral and logical sides, whose gaze immediately shifted to the hunched figure plodding over to his usual seat.

“Good morning you guys!” Patton plastered a fake smile to his face, “I hope you both slept well! The eggs and bacon will be done in just a minute!”

Patton hastily wiped his face and turned back to the eggs cooking on the stove while Logan blinked away unshed tears. Logan cleared his throat as he sat down with his cup of coffee, no book in sight, and gave a quick half smile as he caught Roman’s eyes.

“Good morning Virgil. How did you sleep?”

“Uh...pretty good, actually. I, um, can’t remember the last time I got a full night's sleep. So… Pretty good.”

“That is… good to hear.”

At that moment Patton came over holding a big plate overflowing with eggs, bacon, and toast. He set the plate down on the table and rushed back into the kitchen, only to come back holding two jars of Crofter’s Jam. 

Logan, in a rare spurt of immaturity, made grabby hands at the Loganberry jam. Patton snickered at his friend’s antics and handed over one of the jars, keeping the other to spoon a glob of jam onto his toast as he sat down. He then passed the jam to Roman who spooned some directly into his mouth.

“Roman!” Patton used his Pat(ton)ent-pending “Dad voice”.

“What? Logan’s no better than me!” Roman pointed across the table with his spoon at Logan, who was about to shovel another spoonful of Crofter’s directly into his mouth.

Patton put his hands on his hips. “That’s because that jar is Logan’s and Logan’s alone. You, on the other hand have to share with us, and we don’t want your germs.”

“Uggghhhhhhh. Fine  _ Dad _ .” Roman put some on his toast and morosely handed it over to Virgil who smirked before looking Roman directly in the eyes as he brought a spoonful of Crofter’s up to his mouth and ate it.

Cue offended Princey noises.

After that, breakfast fell into a sort of eerie silence, with only the clinking of silverware to fill the quiet. No one had brought up yesterday’s events and it was grinding away at everyone. Occasionally someone would open their mouths as if they were about to say something before they changed their minds and went back to eating. It was only when, while stabbing a piece of egg with a fork, Virgil’s wrist bent funny and he let out a slight noise of discomfort, did someone say something. 

“Virgil, despite it being early, I think all of us have a few questions about what happened yesterday. Do you think you would be alright to answer them?” Logan set down the jar of jam, adjusted his glasses, and looked at Virgil, who was hunched over and hiding beneath his fringe.

“I-I guess.” He glanced up for a second to see everyone pause to look at him. “What’dya wanna know?”

Patton was the first to speak up with a once again teary voice and ask the question that had been burning into his heart since he had learned about what Virgil was doing. “Why? Why would you do that to yourself? Kiddo, I-we love you so much, why would you do that?”

Virgil had raised his head when Patton started speaking but looked back down as he slowly tried to stutter out an answer. “I um. It-it helps, y’know? It helps me calm down if I’m, um, panicking or, uh, whatever.”

Roman piped up at this. “Wait, do you panic a lot? ‘Cause I don’t want to intrude but there were, like, a lot of scars.”

The emo pulled his legs up into his chair and hid his face in his knees. “Well, I mean, yeah, I guess. Panicking is kinda my thing, being ‘anxiety’ and all.”

All the other sides were absolutely stunned at this piece of information. They all thought that Virgil was just anxious, they never thought that he would ever have panic attacks. And based on what they saw yesterday, his panicking could get pretty extreme, to the point where Virgil felt the need to hurt himself. Patton started blubbering unintelligibly (Virgil thought he heard a “kiddo”, “love”, “alone”, and “worry”) and he looked like he wanted to launch himself across the table and give Virgil a hug, but instead he wiped his eyes and wrapped his arms around himself.

“What I think Patton was trying to say is that we care about you and you should come to one of us if you ever start panicking or feel the need to bring harm to yourself.” Logan paused and looked at Virgil sincerely for a second before continuing, “On another note, I was doing some research last night and I believe that we could find a method of avoiding or calming your attacks.”

Virgil blinked up at Logan from behind his fringe. “Thanks Lo. It-it means a lot.”

By this point, Patton had mostly gotten himself back together and suggested “Hey, maybe after breakfast we could all sit in the living room and think of ways to help Virgil if everybody feels up to it? Maybe we could ask a couple more questions and figure all this out? How about that?” He turned to Virgil for affirmation with hope glittering in his eyes.

“Sure Pat. That could, uh, that could help.” 

The resulting smile from the paternal side could have blinded angels. Virgil smiled a bit to himself, and took a bite of his jam-smothered toast. He could do this, for Patton and Logan and even Roman. He could do this.


	4. Opening Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sides discuss how to help Virgil and learn some new things about their friend. 
> 
> !!WARNING!!  
> This fix is very triggery. Please be careful. If any of the following may trigger you, please don’t read.  
> \- Discussion of self-harm  
> \- Discussion of panic attacks  
> \- Discussion of Patton being a proud dad

Breakfast was over. Patton looked hopeful and proud, not only because Virgil had agreed to having a talk after breakfast, but because Virgil had eaten his entire breakfast and even went back for seconds. (Hey, he hadn’t eaten since yesterday, so he was, as he put it “hungry as fuck”). And although Patton wasn’t a fan of the foul language, he was glad to see Virgil eating something other than energy drinks and tubs of icing at 3 am. 

Roman and Patton were both cleaning up the dishes in the kitchen and Logan and Virgil were both sitting in the living room. But whereas Logan sat straight backed on the left side of the L-shaped sofa with both of his feet placed firmly on the floor and writing in a notebook with his immaculate handwriting, Virgil was curled into the corner sofa, scrolling on Tumblr, trying to calm the storm of anxiety brewing in his chest.

Soon, Patton sat on Virgil’s right side with his ankles crossed and Roman had sprawled across Logan’s lap. No, wait. Roman was laying on the floor as Logan stared at him triumphantly. No, Logan and Roman were both grumpily sharing the left-side sofa across from Virgil and Patton. 

Logan pulled out a notebook. “So I figured we should start with the basics. I believe that it would be most efficient to write down some of the problems you are having and come up with solutions for them one at a time.” He looked up to make sure that there were no objections. He directed his attention towards Virgil. “So you said that you have panic attacks?” Virgil nodded giving a ‘no shit’ look. “Okay, I’ll admit that was a redundant question. So, how often do these attacks happen?”

Virgil looked down at his knees before mumbling, “Maybe, like, every other day or so?”

“Oh, kiddo. That must be horrible! Why didn’t you tell us?”

“It’s not that bad. And I didn’t tell you ‘cause didn’t wanna worry you.”

Roman interrupted, “Yeah, no. From what  _ I _ saw yesterday, they’re pretty goddamn bad.”

Virgil looked at Roman in shock and Patton whispered a quiet “Language.”

“That is a good point Roman. Virgil, are most of your panic attacks to that degree?”

“Um. They’re uh. Yeah. They’re mostly like that. But you guys don’t need to worry about me or anything. I’ve got it under control and stuff.” He looked at his knees and his fringe fell over his eyes, obscuring his face. 

Logan drew two columns in his notebook, labeling one ‘Problems’ and the other ‘Solutions’. Under the problem column he wrote ‘Frequent Panic Attacks’. 

“Alright. So now what are some solutions to the panic attacks? What do you typically do Virgil?”

Virgil felt all the eyes on him. He took a deep breath in and gathered his thoughts before answering, “Uh… Breathing. I use the 4-7-8 breathing thing. It helps to tap out the beats on my leg or listen to a metronome if I can.”

Logan jotted down ‘478 Breathing’ under the “Solutions” column. 

“What else do you do?”

“I um. I count? That helps. Sometimes I’ll count down from 150 by 3s. So… yeah that’s another thing that I, uh, that I do.”

Logan wrote down ‘Counting’. 

“Anything else that you can think of?”

Virgil was blanking. There was too much attention on him.  _ I need to leave. I need my razor. _ Virgil looked down and started silently tapping out his breathing on his leg. Patton rubbed his shoulder.

“Virgil, kiddo?”

The anxious side glanced up at Patton, nervousness practically melting in his eyes. Patton made a sad noise and gave him a hug. It was quiet for about 30 seconds.

“Sorry. I’m. I’m fine.”

Logan looked skeptical. “You sure V? We can finish this tomorrow if you want.”

“No, uh, I just wanna get this over with. Um. I don’t really have many ‘solutions’ other than breathing, counting, and um. You know the other stuff.”

_ C’mon Virgil. You can’t even talk like a normal person without stuttering over all your words. Get yourself together. _

“I’m sure we can come up with some more ideas.” Patton looked optimistically at Roman, “Do you have any ideas, Roman?”

Roman sat up straighter, trying his best to think of ideas but everytime he tried he came up empty. All he  _ could _ think about was how much his friend had been silently struggling and he hadn’t even noticed. How was he supposed to be the Prince if he couldn’t even rescue his one of his own best friends? “Hmm. Well, what do you normally think about when you’re panicking? Maybe if we could stop your panicky thoughts, then we could stop the panicking itself.”

Logan perked up a bit at that idea. “That might work. What do you think about when you’re panicking? Or, what do you normally panic about?”

Virgil stopped all of his previous fidgeting and stilled.  _ What’s wrong? Can’t even own up to your own thoughts? You’re weak. _ He took another deep breath in and muttered “I mostly panic about stupid stuff. Like… like that you guys hate me and stuff. Or that I’m not good enough for Thomas or-or that I’m useless or-” Virgil cut himself off before he could say anything else, and just looked down at his lap.

Patton started rubbing his shoulder again as Roman cleared his throat before saying, “Well, do you think it would help if we remind you that we care about you more often?” Virgil shrugged. “Well if it’s any consolation right now, Surly Temple, you are doing a spectacular job and neither we, nor Thomas would trade you for anything. You’re amazing as your grumpy self.”

That earned a quirk of the lips from Virgil, and Roman counted that as an ultimate victory. Logan wrote down something and paused to pull out his notecards before finishing the sentence. It now read ‘Remind Virgil He’s Gucci’. Logan set down his pen and asked, “Are there any more solution ideas under the ‘Panic attack’ category?”

Everyone shook their head and Patton chirped, “Not that I can think of! But, I did have one question. Virge, if you have panic attacks, then why doesn’t Thomas?”

“Oh…’cause I keep all the anxiety inside of me. Sometimes some slips through the cracks and that makes Thomas a little more anxious, but he doesn’t panic like I do.”

Patton moved both his hands to softly cover his heart. “Aww. That’s so sweet of you kiddo. I’m so proud of you. You’re so good to Thomas.”

Virgil looked away blushing. “Anyway…” 

Logan took the silence as an invitation to continue their discussion. “Alright. Moving on to the next issue I believe needs to be discussed, Virgil’s apparent self harm.” If it was possible for Virgil to curl more into himself, he would have. “As he has previously mentioned it is usually triggered by panic or anxiety of some sort. So we already have one possible solution: keeping Virgil away from panic or anxiety attacks.”

Virgil snorted. “Oh yeah. Keep the literal personification of anxiety from being anxious. Problem solved.”

Roman scoffed. “Don’t be such a Negative Nancy. I’m the ‘literal personification of creativity’ and I’m not even close to always being creative. Sometimes I’ll go days without any kindling for my creative flame.” Throughout his 3-sentence mini-speech he had been gesticulating theatrically, “That’s just more proof that you don’t always have to be anxious.”

Logan nodded. Roman was smarter than most people gave him credit for. Next to ‘Self-Harm’ he marked down ‘Prevent Panic/Anxiety’. 

“In addition. During my research last night, I found some methods of preventing self-harm when the need arises. Some of these methods include holding an ice-cube, drawing on yourself, snapping a rubber band around your wrist, taking a shower, talking to a friend, or distracting yourself with an enjoyable hobby.” As he spoke, Logan wrote down each suggestion. “Not all of these will work for you, Virge, but if even  _ one _ works, then that is a step forward.”

Patton raised his hand like a kid in a classroom, “I have an idea! Maybe if we got rid of all the sharp stuff in Virgil’s room and the house then he might not do it anymore ‘cause it would be harder to find something sharp. He could come to one of us instead!”

At the idea of taking away all the sharps in the house, Virgil slumped and grumbled, “I’m not five anymore. I don’t need to be treated like a kid. Why can’t you just trust me?”

Logan looked sympathetic, “Virgil, we assure you that you have our trust. We simply don’t want for you to hurt yourself on impulse and proceed to regret it later. We just want to be safe.” 

“Fine.”

“Fantastic.” Logan tipped out the page in his notebook and handed it to Virgil. “How does all this look? If we hit any more obstacles or problems, we can just add them to the list and find solutions. So are you willing to try these?”

The tense stares of the other sides bored through Virgil. He hesitated. 

_ They don’t trust you. They shouldn’t trust you. They shouldn’t trust a dark side. If you agree you’ll never be able to cut again. You’ll have nothing.  _

Virgil nodded to the others. 


	5. I Am Here For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of comfort for the soul.  
> *******WARNING********  
> If you've gotten this far, I presume you've noticed that this pic is VERY triggery. Please be careful if any of the following my be problematic for you:  
> \- Talk of self-harm  
> \- Talk of sharp objects  
> \- Talk of delicious cocoa  
> Please! Despite this being a fluffy(ish) chapter, if anything in this fic has bothered you so far, please read no further! Hurting yourself gets you nowhere, and even something as little as a triggering fic may be hurting your mental wellbeing. Take care of yourself! Alright, peace out you adorable little love muffins!

_Virgil nodded to the others._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A collective sigh of relief was breathed out by the light sides at Virgil’s confirmation. 

“Uh, Cool. So are we, like, good? Like, can I go to my room or whatever?”

“Almost kiddo. I’m just gonna go grab a bag real quick and then we can go get all the sharp stuff from out of your room. I’ll clean out the rest of the house on my own.” Virgil looked down and shrugged while starting to get up off the couch. Patton got up quickly and made his way to the kitchen to grab a plastic bag. As Virgil went into his room, Patton followed suit. 

Roman and Logan remained in the living room.

Logan turned, adjusted his tie, and went to stand up and leave. An uncharacteristically quiet “wait” stopped him. Logan turned back around to see Roman with downcast eyes, looking deeply saddened.

“Do you-Do you think we’re doing enough for him?”

Logan moved to sit back on the sofa. 

“You, more than most anyone else, should know that I hate not knowing. And so I did the research, but reading is not experiencing. A book can give you a million answers to a million things for a million methods that worked for a million people. But there’s never been a Virgil before. There’s never been someone that thinks the same way. There’s never been someone who _feels_ the same way. Virgil’s problems, as much as I would like them to be, are not an equation that can be solved with the right variables. As for if we’re doing enough for him? I think we’re doing our best.”

Logan looked up, only to have tears obstructing his view. He wiped them away with a tissue from the coffee table, disoriented by the sudden onslaught of emotion. Clearing his throat, he realized he was not the only one affected by the recent discovery of Virgil’s less than optimal wellbeing. 

Roman was hunched over, glaring at nothing, with silent tears dribbling down his cheeks. He relaxed just slightly as Logan’s hand slowly ran up and down his back.

“I hope it’s enough.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Down the hallway, things were going much less poetically. 

Virgil and Patton were alone in Virgil’s room, looking hopeless and hopeful respectively.

“Okie dokie! Let’s find all the sharp stuff and put it in this here bag,” Patton gestured to the plastic grocery bag in his hands, “I’ll start with all the obvious stuff, like these pretty purple scissors, and you can get the harder to find stuff?”

Knowing that he was referring to his blades, Virgil let out a quiet “‘Kay” and shuffled off into his bathroom. Despite trusting Pat and the light sides’ plan, he knew that he couldn’t get rid of all his blades. He’d be useless ( _More useless than usual, at least_ ) without them. 

He entered the bathroom and reached into his cabinet to find the two he stashed there, but to Virgil’s surprise, they were gone. Same with the one under his soap container. 

_Huh, guess they don’t actually trust you._

Thankfully, the more well hidden blades were still in place and he grabbed all three to bring to Pat, who was still humming along to some distant melody outside the open door. But before he left the bathroom, he felt the call of the blade, just by taking it out. 

_Well that didn’t sound serial killer-y at all, you freak._

Virgil huffed and grabbed the three blades, being more careful than he had ever been with them before. He didn’t want Pat to have more to worry himself about. Speaking of, Patton walked over to Virgil who held out the palm with blades to him. 

“Just put ‘em in this bag, please.” Patton said, trying to keep his overflowing emotions to himself. He wasn’t sure whether he felt pride, despair, or something in-between. Virgil emptied his hand into the bag.

“Thank you very much, my good sir!” Patton pretended to tip a hat toward Virgil, who breathed out through his nose in a sort of half-laugh. Characteristic smirk finding its way across his face. “Is there anything else that we should put in the bag from out here?”

“Uh, yeah. One sec.”

“Cool beans!”

Virgil’s bedside table was home to his extra blades, and a quite beautiful pocket knife. At the idea of giving away his beloved pocket knife that was so wonderfully ~~sharp~~ elegant, he harrumphed, and grabbed the extra blades, leaving the knife. It wouldn’t do any harm to keep a little insurance. He wouldn’t use the knife, of course, it’d simply be there just in case.

Turning around to face Patton, he felt a little better dumping the extra blades into the bag knowing that he had a backup plan. 

(Patton, on the other hand, seeing the amount of objects that might have, at one point, brought harm to his dark strange son, decided what he was feeling was something in between pride and complete and utter despair).

“I think that’s all,” Virgil said, sounding much more Virgil-esque than he had been sounding today.

“Fantastic! Now do ya’ think we could skedaddle on out of here because those curtains have me a little spooked!” 

“Sure, Pat. You head on out. I think I’m gonna stay in here for a little while. To uh, gather my thoughts and all.”

“Oh. Well, if you’re sure. I’ll be in my room if you need me. Don’t hesitate to come get me.”

“Thanks. I’ll-I’ll be sure to.”

The moral side watched from the doorway as his pseudo-son laid down on his bed and pulled out his laptop. Patton pulled the door all the way shut with a creak and exhaled at the silence of the hallway. He needed a mug of cocoa and a hug, asap.

Padding his way downstairs back toward the living room and kitchen, he saw what was left of an emotional genius and a despairing prince. 

“Oh, kiddos…”

Patton sank down in front of the two and enveloped them both in a hug. They leaned into the hug, soaking up the comfort like sponges in a puddle. After a couple minutes of the impromptu comfort cuddle, Logan extracted himself. 

“Thank you Patton. I believe I needed that very much.”

Patton moved to sit in between Logan and Roman on the sofa. “I think we all needed a good hug.”

“Ya’know, I came in here craving a hug and a mug of hot cocoa. I already had a hug, so why don’t I go ahead and make us all a mug of cocoa?”

Roman smiled a bit at the mention of the sweet drink. “Oh Patton, a mug of cocoa sounds absolutely delectable!” 

“It’s decided then, I’m making cocoa. Do you want a mug Logan?”

“One sugary drink can’t be but so problematic. Yes, I’ll have some. ”

“Great!”

Five minutes later, Patton emerged from the kitchen with three mugs. He gave the Disney themed one to Roman (cocoa with whipped cream, chocolate drizzle, and a candy cane). He handed the periodic table themed mug to Logan (just cocoa). And kept the kitten mug for himself (cocoa with whipped cream, marshmallows, and rainbow sprinkles). 

And there the three sat, quietly sipping cocoa and taking comfort in each other’s presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all. What's up? Soooo, it's been a while. School, amirite? Anywho, if you feel I missed any potential tags or warnings please let me know. And I appreciate any and all questions, concerns, criticism, and comments. Have a spectacular rest of your day!


	6. Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !!!!WARNING!!!!!  
> If you have made it this far in this fic, there's a 112% chance you've noticed that it is very triggery!  
> So please, take care of yourselves, and though this is the fluffiest chapter yet, it is still quite angsty. Be nice to yourselves because you deserve kindness! Love all of you! In this chapter watch out for:  
> \- Degrading language  
> \- Obscene language  
> \- The English language

Meanwhile, Virgil was blaring “edgy PG-13 music” (dubbed by Roman as such) in his headphones. Scrolling through Tumblr on his laptop had already become boring, and scrolling through Tumblr on his phone had become even more boring. He wanted to do something but none of his usual past-times seemed, so to say, interesting. 

Great.

Nothing better than being alone in his room with nothing to do. Sounds like it will end just fine. 

_Hey Virgil, what’s up?_

Are you kidding me? You’ve been bothering me all day. Can you just leave me alone?!

_Nope. So what’d’ya wanna think about today? Ooh. I know. How about the fact that now that the light sides know how damaged you are, they’re going to leave you. A toy is fun to play with until it breaks, and Virgil, they just realized how broken and useless you truly are. They’ll discard you like trash. Not to mention._ _.._

Nope, that’s enough out of you, I can’t do this right now.

_Oh, I think we can._

Virgil turned up the volume on his headphones and pulled his favorite book off the shelf. He got two pages into the book before it was angrily chucked across the room.

“Ugghhhhh!”

He glanced at the clock in the corner of his room and noticed it was around dinner time. He wasn’t surprised Patton didn’t come get him for lunch. Virgil rarely ever ate lunch and eating lunch with the others was even rarer. But Patton always came to get him for dinner. And dinner was in twenty minutes, give or take. Virgil groaned to himself. Twenty minutes seemed like an eternity in his empty room.

Surely Patton wouldn’t mind if he came down early? He could even help set up dinner! In his head, he made the perfect plan:

  1. Go downstairs
  2. Help Patton set up for dinner
  3. Stay out of Patton’s way
  4. Sit down and eat dinner as usual
  5. Don’t bother anyone
  6. Mission accomplished!



With this plan in mind, Virgil stood up with a groan and moseyed his way down the stairs to the soft sounds of pans in the kitchen. He stood in the doorway for a couple seconds, letting his eyes adjust to the brightness of the kitchen. But those few seconds were evidently enough for Patton to see him standing there. 

“Oh! Hey there kiddo! I’m happy to see you and all, but what’s got you down here so early?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I kinda just wanted to help set up for dinner or whatever?”

“That’s so kind of you Virgil!” Patton reached over the counter to grab a stack of plates and silverware, “How about you set all of these on the table?”

Patton watched as Virgil quietly hummed in affirmation and took the plates to begin setting up the table. Before getting back to the roast beef he was cooking, he watched in quiet admiration of the figure now setting the plates on the table. He watched as Virgil set a fork down on the left side of a plate, moved it to the right, moved it back to the left, then shrugged and moved on to the next plate. Patton had to stifle a quiet giggle at his friend’s antics before returning to the kitchen. 

“It’s not a fuckin’ dinner party or anything, so it probably doesn’t even matter.”

Patton whirled around, intending to reprimand Virgil for using such foul language, but Patton stopped in the doorway.

The anxious side obviously didn’t realize he was vocalizing his thoughts, and kept struggling with the position of the spoons (forks already placed) while mumbling mostly unintelligible nonsense to himself. 

Now, Patton’s not one to judge, but the way Virgil was having a whole, seemingly heated, conversation with himself was a tad bit concerning. 

“Hey kiddo, once you’re done setting up the table, do you wanna come in here and mix the mashed potatoes?”

Jumping slightly at the unexpected voice, Virgil flushed and nodded. He set the last spoon down, surveyed then table, and approved it with a shrug. 

Patton handed him the spoon as he entered the kitchen and he shambled to the bowl with the potatoes. While he was mashing and the mushy potatoes, Patton filled the silence by talking about a cute pet video compilation he had watched earlier that day. 

“There was one that had five kittens! Five! And they were all super duper adorable! One of them even meowed at the camera. Oh it was precious! And there was one with a puppy-”

Patton’s gushing was cut off by the timer on the oven going off, surprising both sides. 

“Ope! Sounds like the roast beef’s ready!”

Patton reached into the oven and took out the pan with dinosaur oven mitts. He set it on the counter and paused, conflicted. Should he cut up the roast beef with Virgil right next to him? Would that upset Virgil? 

In the meantime, Virgil noticed Patton’s hesitation. 

_Nice going, Virgil. Now you’ve made Patton uncomfortable. He doesn’t trust you anymore, especially not around knives. Whatever happened to, what was it, “Staying out of Patton’s way”?_

“Uh,” Virgil spoke, grabbing Patton’s attention, “I think these potatoes are mashed. I could go get Logan and Roman for dinner?”

“Sounds great, Virge! I’ll just finish up cooking down here while you go grab those two troublemakers!”

Virgil slunk out of the room and Patton pulled out a knife to slice the roast beef. 

“That would’ve been awkward if Virge hadn’t said anything,” Patton thought to himself with a hum. 

A few minutes later, Roman and Logan came down the stairs with Virgil in tow. They all seated themselves at the table and started serving passing around plates and bowls. Conversation started up and all the sides appreciated the normalcy of the energetic conversation. All was well in the mindscape for a solid eight minutes until, while Logan stood up to grab an extra napkin from the kitchen, Roman through a rock in their well-oiled “Machine of Ignoring the Last Two Days™”. 

“Hey, Teach, while you’re in the kitchen could you grab me a knife for the roast beef?”

When Virgil heard this, he looked at Patton, remembering how uncomfortable and hesitant about knives Patton was earlier. 

When Patton heard this, he looked at Virgil, worrying yet again if the presence of a knife would upset his kiddo.

The two made eye contact and Patton asked, with his eyes, if it was okay. Virgil subtly shrugged and nodded. Patton smiled, glad that Virgil was comfortable with a knife being at the table and that they didn’t have to make a big deal of it. 

Unfortunately, the thoughts exchanged during eye conversations are only heard (seen?) by those actively involved in the eye conversation. So, once Logan had given Roman the knife and had re-seated himself, napkin in hand, he remembered Virgil’s little habit. 

Logan looked across the table to Roman, and made eye-contact with him. Thus starting the second eye conversation at the table in the span of 30 seconds. 

Roman raised an eyebrow.

Logan pointedly looked to the knife and then to Virgil.

Roman’s eyes widened in understanding and concern. Clearing his throat, he asked “Hey Virge? Is it okay if I have a knife here at the table? ‘Cause it’s totally okay if not, but like, is it okay? I don’t want to disturb you or anything.”

Logan, Patton, and Virgil cringed at the not only the question, but it’s less than eloquent phrasing.

“Yeah, it’s fine Princey.” 

“Are you sure? I can go in the kitchen if you want, or just use a fork or-”

Logan’s eyes were screaming for Roman to _shut up!_ But Roman was looking at Virgil.

“Yes. It’s fine. _I’m_ fine. Everything is _fine_.” Virgil huffed.

_Roman doesn’t trust you either. None of them do. They think you’re weak. A child. Helpless. Broken. You can’t go one dinner without being the center of attention, you fucking attention-whore._

Dinner was quiet for a few seconds until Patton brought up the topic of what movie they were going to watch for tomorrow’s movie night. The atmosphere relaxed and the awkward few minutes were almost forgotten by all but one of the sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! You made it through the whole chapter! If you would like, feel free to leave any kudos, comments, questions, critiques, or concerns! I hope the rest of your day is as wonderful as you are! (as clarification for those people with little mean voices like Virgil, you are very wonderful) :-D


	7. A Part Of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !!!WARNING!!!  
> Hello there! I'm back at it again at Krispy Kreme with another chapter for this fic, but beware, this fic can be triggering. If any of the following may bother you, pretty please, take care of yourself and don't keep reading!  
> \- Referenced Self-harm  
> \- Referenced Panic attacks  
> \- Referenced Avatar:The Last Airbender (The show, not the movie, because duh)  
> If you're still here, I'm assuming the above won't bother you, so enjoy this (surprisingly early) chapter!

After dinner, everyone went their separate ways. Logan went to the living room to read, Patton went to his room to check up on Thomas, Roman went to the imagination to fight evil dragon-witches, and Virgil went to his room to watch conspiracy theories. 

Midway through a video on Chupacabra, Virgil realized he had no idea what was being said anymore. He was stuck in a rowboat and his thoughts were whirlpooling. Yesterday had seemed surreal, at the time. It didn’t feel like any of it actually happened. But now he had been hid by a big ol’ truth truck. Yesterday wasn’t a Willy Wonka Boat Scene level surreal dream, but an actual thing that actually happened.

“Oh Shit.”

Now the others had to worry about him. They would stop him from cutting. What would he do if he had a panic attack? What would he do if he screwed up? The others would try to stop him, but they don’t understand that he deserves it. For all the pain he causes others, he deserves to feel pain too. Right? 

_ Right.  _

The others don’t deserve it because they make people happy. They’re light sides for heaven’s sake! Virgil, on the other hand, was a useless, broken, and worthless dark side. 

_ Exactly. No one wants you, not even yourself. If you were gone, no one would have to deal with your pathetic self. _

I know, I know. But, I can’t just kill myself. What would happen to Thomas?

“Oh Shit. Thomas.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the same time, another side had a similar revelation. 

For the past couple days, Thomas had been placed on the back burner, attention wise. All the light sides had been focused on helping Virgil. Although now that no one was in immediate danger, Patton figured that he should pop in and check on Thomas. 

Patton appeared, in his usual spot, and walked over to the couch where Thomas was currently cuddled up, re-watching Avatar: The Last Airbender. Which Thomas immediately paused, the second he noticed Patton. 

“Patton!” Thomas adjusted himself so he was sitting upright and looking at Patton, “It’s been forever! Is Virgil okay? You guys had me worried sick!”

“Oh fiddlesticks! I completely forgot that you were there too! I’m so sorry we worried you!” 

“It’s okay, Patton. But could you fill me in on Virgil? Please?” 

Patton moved to sit next to Thomas, who promptly lifted the blanket to cover Patton too. And as a literal blanket fell over Patton, a metaphorical blanket of silence fell over the room. Patton, suddenly uncomfortable, started fidgeting with the soft edge of his polo. Finally, the silence was broken by a soft sigh.

“Well, I can’t tell you the details, because that’s Virgil’s business, but I will tell you that Virgil is safe and we are doing our very best to make sure it stays that way.”

“Oh. Okay. That’s good.” 

A hush fell over the room once again. 

“Hey Patton?”

“Yeah Kiddo?”

“I understand that it would be a breach of trust if you told me what’s going on with Virgil, but do you think that it would be okay if I asked Virgil himself? Because I really wanna help Virgil with whatever he’s going through, but I can’t help him as much if I don’t know  _ what _ he’s going through.”

The moral side felt his heart swell at the love his host was displaying. 

“I think that’s a great idea, as long as you’re nice about it. If you ask nicely and show him how much you care, he’ll probably tell you, but on the off chance he doesn’t want to tell you, you should respect his boundaries.” 

Thomas smiled and nodded. “I will. And, when should I ask him?”

Patton thought for a few seconds before speaking again, “It seemed like he was having an okay day today, so maybe after I sink out you could summon him up here?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good. Wanna finish watching this episode with me?” Thomas gestured towards the television with his hand.

“Sure thing! I love this show!”

“Doesn’t everybody?”

Around twenty minutes later the episode ended and Patton sunk out with an encouraging smile and pair of thumbs up. 

Although hesitant, Thomas was more than ready to do everything he could to help Virgil. He prepared himself for what he was going to ask Virgil, and (less forcibly than last time) summoned him. 

“Virgil? Buddy? Could I talk to you?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh Shit. Thomas.”

If Virgil wasn’t drowning in his thoughts before, he was now. He had caused the other sides to pay less attention to Thomas. He had probably worried Thomas too, because Thomas had been there that day when he was summoned. The mere idea that he could’ve been hurting Thomas, albeit accidentally, was suffocating. 

“Virgil? Buddy? Could I talk to you?”

Ironically, it was as if Thomas could sense Virgil thinking about him, rather than the other way around, like usual. 

Taking a deep breath and composing himself, he crossed his arms defensively and rose up by the stairs, as always. 

“‘Sup? Is something wrong?”

“Hey Virge! Nothing’s wrong, I just wanted to talk to you. Can I join you over there by the stairs?”

The anxious side shrugged, indifferent. Thomas obviously took the shrug as an affirmative, and sat down on the bottom step next to him. 

Virgil made brief eye contact with Thomas before looking back down at his lap. Leaving Thomas to gaze at Virgil, wishing he could make him more comfortable. 

“I was just wondering how you’re doing?”

_ Even your own host pities you. He just wants to know if you’ll function well enough to keep him well. Thomas doesn’t actually care about you. Or maybe, you haven’t been doing as good a job containing your anxiety as you should have. Maybe Thomas summoned you here to tell you how much you’ve failed him.  _

Subtly hunching into himself, Virgil replied, “I’m fine. Why, are you feeling anxious or something?”

“No, I’ve got no complaints here. But I’ve been worried about you these last couple days. If it’s okay with you, could I ask, truthfully, what’s going on, Virge?”

Virgil’s breath hitched, not wanting to talk about his problems anymore, but knowing that his host deserved an explanation. 

“Um. Well, uh. I…” 

_ Great fucking job, Shakespeare.  _

Virgil felt his throat close up and knew he wouldn’t be able to talk even if he wanted to. Face burning with embarrassment, he looked up at Thomas and quickly shook his head, hoping that he would catch on to the fact the he couldn’t just talk about his problems. He needed to breathe. 

“Oh. Okay. Would it be better for me to ask specific questions you could answer?”

_ Now Thomas has to treat you like a baby? You’re such a dumbass you can’t even talk. Pathetic.  _

A hesitant nod was the only response Thomas received. 

“Alrighty. Are you physically okay?”

A nod. 

“That’s good! Are you emotionally okay?”

_ Ha! You wish! _

A shrug. 

“Okay. Is there anything I can do to help?”

A shake of the head. 

“Oh. Please let me know if you ever think of something I could do to help.”

By now, Virgil was a few breaths into his breathing exercise and felt calm enough to say something. 

“I will.”

Thomas’ lips quirked but the feeling was fleeting. He knew what he wanted to ask, but couldn’t think of a way to phrase it that didn’t seem presumptuous. Well, it’s best not to beat around the bush.

“Hey, bud, I was wondering if you, uh, do you hurt yourself?”

Although he was expecting this question, it caught him off guard, hearing it out loud. And as much as Virgil wanted to deny it and move on, he knew he shouldn’t lie, especially not to Thomas. 

“Uh. Y-yeah?”

Although he was expecting this answer, it caught Thomas off guard, hearing it out loud. Tears formed in his eyes, threatening to spill down his face. 

“Can I give you a hug?”

“I-I guess?”

_ Why did that sound like a question? You might as well replace Alex Trebek  _ (Jeopardy host)  _ with how many questions you ask.  _

Suddenly arms were wrapped around Virgil, silencing the voice in his head and enveloping him in warmth. After a few seconds, Virgil tentatively brought his arms gently around Thomas. 

Despite his original reluctance, Virgil found he quite liked being hugged. His eyes closed softly while Thomas lovingly rubbed circles on his back. The two stayed that way until Thomas needed to go to bed. 

As Thomas stood up and Virgil prepared to sink out, Thomas smiled. 

“Virgil, I just want you to know that I care about you so much. If there’s ever  _ anything _ I can do to help, I would gladly do it. You’re more than just one of my sides, but you’re my friend.”

The positivity poured over Virgil like a tidal wave. 

“Thank you. Goodnight?”

“Goodnight.”

Virgil sunk out with a soft smile on his face. Climbing into bed, he was asleep within the hour. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Any comments, kudos, questions, or critiques are welcome! Have a supercalifragilisticexpialidocious day!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I really appreciate any and all comments/kudos! Please tell me if I missed any potential triggers that I should tag!  
> Stay safe out there! You're awesome!


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